Peculiar Turn
by BeyondDoomsday
Summary: An alternate ending/sequel to the story Peculiar Intentions by Shizuka no Taisho. In this one, Beyond takes care of the out of control situation in his own... original style.


** This is a modest tribute to the genius fan-fiction writer, Azeira ( Shizuka no Taisho on ), who makes an art out of her each story and represents a true inspiration to me. This can be considered an alternate-ending/turn/twisted version (call it whatever you want to call it) to the first BBxLight story of hers I've ever read, "_Peculiar Intentions"._ So it just seemed right. Enjoy!**

Peculiar Turn

Beyond never gave his actions a second thought. That was what made him so different from his curse, also known as the world's greatest and most known detective. Neither did he ever think about a possible second chance. He never knew a second chance himself either. Life was the only chance someone would get to their only shot that could prove itself successful , any other one being just a prolonged road to defeat. You either did a clean cut from the beginning, or the flesh would only rip off. Not that Beyond didn't learn to see the hidden beauty in the only thing that would show itself to him almost willingly: blood, violence, pain, damnation, death. Even defeat looked fascinating in his shinigami eyes, as it was now looking down upon him, smiling mockingly.

Or rather he was looking at it, its metallic scent and so fascinating color radiating the extravagant and only memory left to him of something so dear and crucial to him. It was still there, his latest obsession, covered in the red substance that he and Beyond would celebrate their encounters with, but Beyond's favorite color was now exposing itself on a cold-sweated canvas in its last red tint, the killer's favorite shade which would always give him a damnable sensation of safety and satisfaction. It would never spill fresh again and leave beautiful traces in its hurried run across the shaking-rising chest of the boy in front of him.

But it was beautiful, nonetheless. A perfectly sculpted body chained to the wall by its cuffed hands, covered in deep red cuts which had freed a large amount of blood, only a few inches of bruised flesh remaining visible. An amber-haired head was tilted to the side, its silky locks falling over a heavenly-featured face, now covered by a mask of pain and horror. Or was it a mask? This special one had so many masks that Beyond had learned to love and take off at the same time, but this was not one of them. This foreign pain dancing across the young face was real and seemingly fueled by something deeper than the physical cuts done by his soul mate. It seemed that the psychotic man wasn't the only one tortured by the obvious defeat in this miserable moment.

Beyond lifted the freshly stained knife to his face and, taking in the view of the naked and destroyed masterpiece if front of his eyes, he licked the sharp blade, letting it cut through through his tongue's flesh, blending the sacred blood on the blade with his own and savoring the perfect taste that would always result from the mixture. He couldn't help but smile as he felt his mind plunge deeper into a petrifying darkness, one never known before, even though he thought he'd seen every kind of torture, physical and mental. He found it funny how his best ability, the one of ending the so-called miracle of life, was now sinking its sharp teeth into him, like a jaded beast biting its own master and forgetting its initial purpose.

A choked cough took him back to reality, into the room that had been not long ago filled with negotiations and cries for mercy, which only made Beyond want to silence them earlier, before he could realize what he was actually doing. But hesitation, never felt by him before, led to this unfinished, haunting mess, that only made him able to feel the emptiness of something so important smashed to bits by his own hands.

"Be-" The teen's attempt at articulating his lover's name was quickly interrupted by another coughing outburst, his body beginning to spasm. Beyond hurried up to him and reached a hand up to his mouth, placing a finger on bloody lips, caressing one of the upwards stretched arms with his other hand, dropping the knife on the bloody floor and avoiding as much as possible the abundant cuts, still bleeding.

"Shh...My lovely Kira-kun." his finger trailed off, contouring the perfect jaw line. "Enough has been said and done already."

Beyond looked down at his torn shirt and jeans, each of them barely reflecting the earlier confrontation of the two, when Light had informed his lover about his plan on giving up his memories and surrendering himself to those filthy, sugar craving hands, offering them all of his dignity on a golden plate that only Beyond had the right to stain and cut open, reaching straight to his soul and coloring it red. That damn bastard would never have him, would never have anything but his empty satisfaction of solving the Kira case, the only case which the detective hoped himself it wouldn't lead to Light actually being Kira. He knew that the panda-eyed man would forever curse his job for the results of this solved case. But wait. Who said the case would ever be solved by the legendary L? Beyond grinned, his lips shaking, making his mouth hesitate between disgust and a purely insane satisfaction. That's right. Not only would he take Light forever from L's reach, but he'd also steal and destroy his case. He'd finally be able to embrace the intoxicating victory against his ultimate fixation.

"But what a sacrifice...", the murderer whispered, caressing Light's torn cheek and slowly placing his bitten lips over the other one's, taking in the last remains of scent left of the Light he'd loved for such a long time. And how he was still longing for more time for it, an eternity if possible. But this was going beyond his free-will, way back when his destiny had been chosen, before he was born with the shinigami eyes that, in the end, led him to fulfilling his purpose. His whole life had the simple objective of constituting the world's greatest detective's evil reflection, his tainted self, proving that nothing was perfect and, if it was, it had an equally disturbed and opposite clone somewhere, staining its image and equalizing its efforts in doing good with opposite acts, just as significant. This wasn't about his possessiveness anymore. His fate's purpose was at stake and there wasn't any other road to victory. This was what he was meant to do from the first lifespan he'd ever seen. And it required a crucial effort from his side.

Blood trickled from the corner of the teen's lips as Light let out a muffled moan and his body convulsed, as if suppressing a cough. Beyond removed himself from the angelic face, wiping away from it a tear that was starting to merge with the dripping scarlet fluid. Full lips let out more blood flow out on the bruised skin already covered in dry blood. The older man didn't bother wiping the rest of his face. He was too beautiful like this. A masterpiece at the peak of its glory, shortly to be followed by a harsh descent. He wished that this would have been like every other twisted unions of theirs, that the captive demonically beautiful creature would take his usual shower and some useless bandages and heal, so that they could start over with new marks of fascinating gore. But these were too many and too well placed, they would never heal, at least not at this point.

"You're bleeding so wonderfully, my precious." Beyond purred and teary amber eyes shut tightly, letting out more tears. The pale man glanced at the mistaken deep cut, only a few inches away from the teen's heart. His hesitation gave them these resignation moments which were, even for Beyond, uselessly painful. But their whole relationship was made of pain and gruesomeness, just raw reflections of their souls. Still, they completed themselves perfectly, each side ending up satisfied and pleasured. A pale face tilted slightly to the side, while red eyes were scrutinizing the unbelievably vulnerable figure in front of them. Beyond felt how his mind was getting more and more lucid by the second, almost making him doubt his insanity. This feeling of doubt wasn't normal, it wasn't his. He wasn't a rational creature, unless he'd only feel forced by occasional circumstances. His constant thirst for blood and chaos, as well as his cynical way of thinking was what really got him this far, what allowed him to enjoy such a glorious experience.

And still, there he was, the self-proclaimed "God of the New World", facing his final defeat as he watched his last grains of power being blown away by this tornado guiding B's sick purpose. He'd grown feelings for this selfish psychopath, something he'd never cared to feel for any of the inferior beings in his life until then. It made him weak and he could see that. That's why he wasn't blaming Beyond or sensing the smallest bit of hate or betrayal for his lover. He knew B felt the exact same bound between them and breaking it was what was so important to him. The way he did it mattered, and that was not by giving up his most precious possession to the great L. He'd finish it all himself, and Light had nothing to do than to accept the facts and resign once and for all. The tears were just maybe a pathetic way of expressing it. They were the only thing he had strength left for.

"No, no, my love, don't cry. You chose this the moment you picked up that notebook. And you were the last piece of my puzzle that I had to wait for to finish this war once and for all. " A pale hand removed the sticky strands of amber hair off the bleeding wounds. " You wanted justice, Raito, but you couldn't escape you own fate either. There is no perfection in this world, my dear, and we'll prove it. We did it together. Do you understand this?", a slight undertone of despair could be noticed by the teen and he almost felt the power to nod, but closing his eyes was the only response he managed to give. "Do you understand my true reasons, Raito?" He continued stroking his cheek as he felt too weak himself to continue this masquerade any longer. He'd have to finish this eventually. Calling him "Kira" was just too nostalgic and belonged to a time of glory and false conceptions. He was talking to Yagami Raito now, the single person alive meaning to Beyond more than anything. Enough to be able to be redeemed forever. He felt his lips curling into a sad smile. He was sad, although he was finding it unnatural. There was no reason to be sad, the soon-to-be corpse in frond of him had no reason to cry. But it was, indeed, as if watching a good and tragic movie ending in the best way possible. Some would cry, others would feel somewhat sad. But the accomplishment was there, shining brightly in the already rising sun. It had been a hell of a night.

Beyond let his hand fall, along with his gaze, from the beautiful eyes framed by an amalgam of tears, blood and sweat, to a violated mouth, torn between disgust and acceptance. For a moment, the older man closed his eyes and almost thought that he could hear the pristine and sensual voice calling him. He opened his eyes, the corners of his mouth slowly rising into a smile. A quite loving one. Of course, that voice could only be his imagination. Light wasn't the type to give up a battle that easily and his verbal skills would always be his hidden ace. But now, that ace had been taken by his febrile lover, along with his silver tongue. Of course, the long cut from the corner of his mouth all the way up to his eye was just a matter of aesthetics. The uniform red covering the teen's once perfect skin wasn't quite allowing any small details like that to show. It was a gruesome and yet heavenly picture, since this was, after all, what Beyond could call true bliss. And yet, there it was, that goddamned feeling of guilt. Or it might have been guilt, he wasn't sure. Such emotions had been long ago locked away with his sanity.

A sudden urge to burst out into uncontrolled laughter made his body shake. 'My sanity?'

"Tell me, my beloved, do you still doubt my reasoning?" B finished off into a whisper, leaning over to a blood-colored ear, not without giving it a small bite. "Do you still think I'm only doing this for my own satisfaction?" He stepped away from Light who was struggling to stay conscious. His whole body was covered in cuts that burned like hell and the feeling intensified at a movement of the air caused by Beyond, as he went to pick up his loyal knife off the floor.

"I care about you, my dear Raito." He picked up the sharp tool and admired its red glow in the recently lit candle light. How could such a simple object make the best decisions so many times? He had to admit it, he hadn't always made the best decisions himself either. But he didn't really ever worried too much about making plans, as it all came natural to him. As natural as seeing every lifespan except his lover's. It was there and Beyond couldn't see it, but he knew it wasn't his time yet and that he would have to break his tradition for once. For the first and last time. It wouldn't be anything natural about it, but that was what made it the right thing to do.

More blood started to make its way from what seemed a godly well of blood all the way to B's bare feet, embracing them with it warmth and enticing smell, summoning his thirst and dragging him back to face the cruel facts. Beyond turned to the splendid statue that provided all that wonderful fluid and which was clearly in a struggle that moved from the mental realm, to the physical one. The pale man took a few steps towards Light.

"You are in agony, my love, I know." The pale man smiled as the teen seemed to have heard him and glanced at him before being stricken by another wave of faintness. B shook his head and took a few more steps towards his precious victim, until their faces were only a few inches apart. He stared, once again, at the surreal face in front of him. It surprised him how blood could still fascinate him so much. But now, it also gave him a feeling of ending. It was, indeed, the very end. He smirked as he glanced down at the knife he was holding so tightly in his hands, as if it was the most important thing in the world. It was, in fact, a god's death.

The sounds of coughs and heavy breathing were filling the room, along with the jingle of the chained handcuffs. Everything was red, every square of what represented the psychotic killer's shelter was covered in blood and shaking violently in a vulgar mess. Everything had fallen apart.

Beyond closed the distance between their bodies and felt his shirt and pants sticking to the soaking wet bloody skin of his partner. He rested his head on a cold-sweated chest, the pressure applied to it only making Light pant more. The irregular rhythm of his heartbeat was loud and his moans were like music to B's ears. He would only get to hear this symphony for the last time and he was now waiting for it to culminate and end suddenly. " My...Kira-kun..."Beyond breathed the words slowly onto his cheek, while caressing his nape with the blade of his knife. He could feel Light's body shiver against his and he held the blade still. Looking into the half-closed eyes of his lover, which were now struggling to stay open, Beyond felt, once again, the pleasure of savoring the last seconds of his prey's life. He could feel the macabre atmosphere gently caressing his knife hand and giving him one last encouragement.

A few moments later, the sharp blade penetrated Light's nape, straight through his brain, draining his remaining will to resist the tempting lady in black. Surprisingly quick, the room was freed by any trace of the uncomfortable air, death being the only thing left to breathe. Beyond let its sharp teeth claim him, feeling its sweet venom blurring his vision of the empty, soulless amber eyes gazing beyond his lover, beyond the walls around them, beyond that world. Beyond smiled as he recognized a faint relief reflecting on the teen's lifeless features. He, himself, felt dragged into that relief''s embrace as a pool of freshly spilled blood was starting to combine itself with the previous, dry one already coating the floor. Crimson sun beams were now timidly beginning to invade the beautifully tragical scene, which was one of an undeniably brutal gruesomeness, a rare, carefully planned picture, sank into a pool of blood and cautiously exposed in an abandoned museum. If there was, at first, any logic contouring the concept of the work, it had been hidden behind a veil of insanity, anger, blood, extravaganza and even a few traces of strawberry jam. It was 100% signed Beyond Birthday, his own corpse representing the final brush strokes.

Two bodies were now decorating the room, one on the wall, representing the defeated search of ideals in the meaningless whirlpool of life and another one on the floor, leaned against the same wall, representing everything the other was was fighting against, but was the exact opposite who could truly complete him. And every completed thing had to end eventually.


End file.
